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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27926458">One out of six</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccEEE/pseuds/Becci%20Barnes'>Becci Barnes (BeccEEE)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>STB Bingo 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood, Character Death, Dark, Darkfic, Electric shocks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Evil Tony Stark, Flashbacks, Graphic Violence, Guns, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Not Canon Compliant, PTSD, Palladium Poisoning, Revenge, Russian Roulette, SHIELD agents - Freeform, Stucky - Freeform, Suicide, Torture, Villain Tony Stark, Violence, Weapons, hold captive, not too graphic but still there, trap, use of weapons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:49:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27926458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccEEE/pseuds/Becci%20Barnes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve receives a message from Bucky, he does not hesitate to come to help his boyfriend thereby leading both himself and Bucky straight into a well designed trap. Tony Stark, SHIELD's weapons supplier, is waiting for them in the abandoned industrial building and he has brought a brand new model with him: a revolver with only one bullet.</p><p>"Ever heard of Russian roulette?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>STB Bingo 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>STB Bingo: Round One</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One out of six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First of all: Please take the tags seriously, shit is going down here. Don't like it, don't read it. And please let me know if I missed any important tags.</p><p>Fill number 3 for the Steve-Tony-Bucky-Bingo : https://stb-bingo.tumblr.com/</p><p>Prompt: Evil!Tony<br/>I had this plot bunny in my head for quite a while and the prompt just made it kind of happen on it's own...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Quietly Steve sneaked through the tall grass that reached almost to his knees. Tense, he listened for any sound but could hear nothing but the rustling of plants streaking across his suit. Carefully he made his way forward, heading straight for the large building that towered in front of him in the late evening twilight. A single street lamp from the nearby side street was still visible from here and cast a little light on the outer wall. The original red bricks had disappeared under several layers of graffiti and nothing here still had the colours Steve remembered. In the past, trains used to be supplied with electricity here, but the service must have stopped several decades ago. Now the abandoned property apparently served as a hiding place for criminals.</p><p>Steve arrived at the house wall and followed it until he came to one of the large rectangular entrances. There used to be gates here that had been lowered at night to prevent trespassers from entering, but if these gates still existed they were now wide open. Right next to the entrance, Steve pressed his back against the colourful wall, holding his shield firmly against his chest. But still he could not hear anything. He must be here somewhere, he thought. It was definitely the right building. <br/>
Carefully he moved his head around the corner and peeked into the large warehouse. But he saw nothing but jet black. The pitiful rest of light from the streetlight did not reach any further than a few steps into the building. The rest of the hall lay in complete darkness. Steve expected to be ambushed at any time, so he would not simply walk into a dark hall blindly. From one of the pockets on his belt, Steve pulled out a small torch. He hesitated for a moment, making sure he still couldn't hear anything. Then he raised the shield to chest height again, aimed above it with the torch into the building and switched it on. </p><p>A bright beam of light broke through the darkness and revealed a small part of the huge space to Steve. He saw that even inside, the walls were smudged from top to bottom and the light from the torch was reflected by the large puddles on the stone floor. Steve quickly beamed light into all four corners and into the roof truss. The rusty steel beams might be old, but they served as a perfect position for a sniper. But Steve couldn't see anyone up there either. It seemed as if he was the only one who had entered this warehouse for a long time. But that was not true. He had to be here somewhere. Steve suppressed the impulse to call out for him loudly and instead stepped quietly further into the large room, the shield pressed firmly against his chest. <br/>
A slight splash sounded as his boots sank into the large shallow puddle. Once again Steve lit up the room and walls, always careful to turn himself and the shield with the torch to avoid giving up his cover. A few metres up, a sort of gallery ran along the walls. He hadn't noticed the rusty steel from the gate because it was covered with graffiti, like everything else. But from the middle of the hall, Steve could see the platform protruding from the wall and the thin railing around it. Again he lighted to the ceiling. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that someone was sitting on the beams above him, watching him. But he could still not discover anything else but steel beams and perforated or missing roof slabs. An unpleasant feeling crept over Steve. Where was he? He should have found him long ago or at least heard someone. Everything here was yelling ambush at him, but Steve wouldn't leave until he had searched every single square metre of the grounds for him. No matter if it took all night.</p><p>Again he turned around with the torch in his hand and now his gaze fell on the hidden stairs in a corner. Technically they weren't hidden, but they were also covered with so much paint that they had vanished in front of the colourful wall. Slowly Steve walked towards it. Although he tried hard, he could not prevent the soft splashes as he stepped through the shallow puddle that covered the entire floor. <br/>
The staircase, like all the other beams here, was made of steel and therefore, despite its rusty appearance, surprisingly stable. Steve slowly took one step at a time and eventually ended up on the steel gallery he had already spotted from downstairs. Steve let the light wander along the gallery, but again there was nothing to indicate anything unusual. <br/>
Still holding the shield protectively in front of him, Steve walked the metal platform along the short side of the room towards the only door he could locate. It was made of heavy metal and Steve suspected it to be the connection to the adjacent former administration building. Steve carefully tested whether he could push the door open. If it had ever had a lock, it was apparently rusted through, as the door swung open without a problem, making a loud squeaking sound. </p><p>The room behind it was just as dark and Steve stayed in the door frame, the shield in front of him and lit into the darkness. The walls were painted here as well, but now it was rather sporadic scribbles and in many parts the original white wallpaper was still visible, even though it was not white anymore, but yellowed and dirty. In the middle of the room was a massive table, which looked like an old wooden office desk and around it were three chairs that did not fit together. Two of the chairs were made of shiny metal and looked very uncomfortable, the third looked more like an antique office chair. Everything in the room was covered by a thick layer of dust, except for the two metal chairs. <br/>
Steve walked towards them. He was sure that these chairs had been brought here recently. Not only were the seats cleaner than anything else here, but the floor around the legs of the chairs was covered with traces of dragging and footprints. Someone had been here and was probably still nearby.</p><p>A sharp sting unexpectedly hit Steve's neck and he turned around, shield in place. But he already felt his muscles go limp and his vision turned black. The moment he hit the ground he heard the door slam shut and footsteps approaching him. Then he lost consciousness.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The first thing Steve noticed when he slowly regained consciousness was that he was sitting. Someone must have lifted him off the floor and put him in a chair. Dazed, he opened his eyes. He felt an unpleasant pressure on his wrists and looked down. Someone had taken off his gloves and tied him to the metal armrests of the chair with broad straps. He tried to pull on them, but they did not give way. His gaze wandered further upwards and he wanted to look around the room, but his whole body was still under the influence of the anaesthetic he had been given and it took quite a while for the image to reach his brain. <br/>
It was no longer dark around him. A bright lamp on the ceiling illuminated the dust-covered wooden desk in front of him and the yellowed walls, which were occasionally smeared with graffiti. He was still in the room where he had been subdued while he had been searching for...<br/>
"Bucky?!" he shouted without thinking about it.<br/>
"Wrong!" a voice behind him answered and Steve tried to turn his upper body to see who had spoken.<br/>
"Where is he?" Steve asked angrily and kept trying to get a glimpse of his kidnapper.<br/>
"Probably on his way here. If he's only half as fast as you were, it won't be long now." <br/>
Steve heard the man behind him walking up and down. "<em>I'm in trouble, old BRT Power Station, come quick!</em>" he read out loud. "Does that sound familiar?"</p><p>Steve swallowed, but did not answer. Bucky had sent him this message what felt just a few minutes ago and his heart had almost stopped when he had read it. Of course, he had immediately set off to help him. Only apparently, the message had not come from Bucky and he had never been in danger in the first place. <br/>
"Did the penny drop, huh?" the man asked and Steve heard him continue walking back and forth behind him. "You self-righteous heroes are so ridiculously easy to predict." <br/>
Steve looked down on himself again and thought frantically about how to get out of this predicament. Once more he pulled on the shackles, but they remained unyielding. <br/>
"Whoa, easy, who wants to escape this?" the voice whispered into his ear from behind. Steve could smell expensive perfume mixed with expensive alcohol. "Do yourself a favour and drop it. Or I might as well vent my anger on your friend." <br/>
Steve clenched his jaws together. He heard the footsteps move away but the unpleasant smell remained in the air. He saw his shield leaning against the wall a few metres away and in front of it lay a knife along with the torch and other things that had been in the pockets of his suit. The man had not wanted to take any risks.</p><p><br/>
But maybe Steve could use the chair he was sitting on as a weapon. His ankles were also strapped to the legs of the chair, but if he could manage to stand up with the chair and turned around fast enough, he could at least knock the man down. That would definitely put him in a better position. Steve shifted his weight as far forward as he could and tried to push himself up with his thighs, but the chair didn't move a fraction of an inch. It didn't even slide on the floor. <br/>
"Oh yeah, the chair is fixed to the floor" the man said, sounding amused as he apparently watched Steve in his efforts. "After all, I am not a beginner "<br/>
Steve gave up and leant back again. "And who <em>are</em> you?" he then asked. Maybe he could find out what the man wanted from him, or at least distract him until Bucky was here and could overpower him.<br/>
"You know me," the man said smugly, "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Well, I'd probably cut that last one, but it works great on magazine covers."<br/>
"Stark" Steve said. He knew him indeed. Not that they had ever met, but nobody didn't know Tony Stark. His company, Stark Industries, was infamous and dreaded around the world and it was also him who provided weapons for SHIELD. Steve also knew that Director Fury had once considered him for a special task force, but after an in-depth study of his personality they had declared him not suitable. Rightfully so, as Steve thought, and as Stark himself just proved convincingly. <br/>
"The one and only" confirmed Stark. "Surprised?"<br/>
"Not really" Steve replied. Stark had come to a halt.<br/>
"Not?"<br/>
"I saw your file," Steve said. Unable to look behind himself, Steve tried to observe more of the room in front of him as he talked. Maybe there was something that would help him escape. "Reads like a super villain's guide." </p><p>Stark didn't answer immediately and Steve already thought that he had silenced him with this statement when he muttered "As if on cue" Steve tried in vain to turn around once more when he heard a metallic click and some unknown soft noises. Then suddenly it was quiet. Anxiously, Steve hearkened into the silence and heard what he had not wanted to hear. There were footsteps outside the door. Steps other than Stark's. <br/>
"Bucky, don't!" Steve yelled, hoping his voice would get through the heavy door and reach him. He should not enter the room under any circumstances. Not now that Stark had retreated and was obviously up to something. <br/>
"Steve?" he heard the muffled voice answer and then the door behind him squeaked again. <br/>
"Bucky, get out!" Steve shouted. "It's an ambush, Bucky, get out of here!" But Bucky had already crossed the room and was at Steve's side. For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes as the realisation seeped through to Bucky, then the tranquilliser dart hit him in the neck and he fell to the floor next to Steve's chair. Steve stared at his boyfriend in horror. His knees had collapsed and his head had dropped to his chest, but Bucky's arm was still hanging limp over Steve's.<br/>
"Told you so. Absolutely predictable" Stark said and now he stepped into Steve's field of vision. Steve had seen his face on various billboards and magazines and immediately recognised the distinctive goatee and the arrogant expression. And he also recognised the bright blue glowing circle on his chest that made headlines and the red metal that covered his hands like gloves. It was no secret that Stark was pursuing vigilante justice as Iron Man. Something that looked like a small aiming device just sank back into the gauntlet when Steve looked, and he was sure that Stark had used it to shoot the little arrows that had knocked out first him and then Bucky. The dosage in it had to be tremendously high, because normal sedatives didn't work very well on either Steve or Bucky. And yet they had both been unconscious within seconds. Stark had obviously done his research.</p><p>He was now standing right next to Steve, looking down at Bucky and hitting him in the ribs with the tip of his foot. <br/>
"Hey!" Steve shouted outraged and turned his head as far as he could to look at Stark angrily. But he just shrugged and kept kicking Bucky's upper body with his foot until his arm slipped away from Steve and his body fell completely to the ground. Steve tried in vain once more to free his hands. A stab went through his heart when he saw Bucky lying there on the floor, eyes closed and every muscle limped. Even the metal arm seemed to have shut down. And Steve could do nothing to help him. <br/>
All he could do was watch Bucky undergo the exact same procedure that Stark had used on Steve just a few minutes earlier when he had been unconscious. He bent over Bucky and began searching his pockets. After relieving him of all knives, weapons and far more innocuous items, Stark removed his black gloves to put on the same sturdy straps that were attached to Steve's wrists. <br/>
Helplessly, Steve watched as Stark reached under his boyfriend's lifeless arms and pulled him across the dusty floor. Steve was pretty sure that he was deliberately dragging him through the dirt, as he had no trouble lifting Bucky's body and placing it in the chair next to Steve, something that Steve hadn't thought he was capable of with his thin stature. He could only guess that the Iron Man gauntlets helped him with that.<br/>
The straps snapped under the armrests and around the legs of the chair so that Bucky was also tied to the chair with hands and feet. Steve saw Bucky's head move slightly when Stark double-checked all the cuffs, but he didn't wake up. </p><p>Finally Stark straightened up, looked from Steve to Bucky and rubbed his hands in anticipation. Steve almost became sick at the sight.<br/>
"Well, now that all our guests of honour are here, let the party begin" he said. Steve followed him with his eyes as he walked around Bucky and sat down casually on the edge of the desk right in front of Steve. <br/>
"What do you want?" Steve asked and it was almost a growl. To see Stark mistreating his boyfriend had caused an unknown rage to rise in him. An animalistic rage. He wanted to attack Stark, cause him pain, make him pay. But he couldn't. His only option was to end this before Bucky woke up again and became a part of it. <br/>
"Take it easy my friend, one step at a time" Stark said, leisurely taking off the red gauntlets and throwing them under the desk.<br/>
"I'm not your friend" Steve growled.<br/>
"No" Stark grinned. "But sometimes you wish you were" From somewhere behind him he took out a bottle of whiskey and a glass and put them down beside him noisily. Steve's head fluttered over to Bucky, but he was still unconscious in his chair.<br/>
"Just tell me what you want and we'll sort it out between you and me. Bucky doesn't have to be part of this" Steve said.<br/>
Stark's eyes narrowed and he paused mid-movement. "What on earth makes you think this is about you?" <br/>
Steve stared at him. And then he realised. He had just been the bait. The lure for Bucky. Stark wanted something from Bucky, and Steve started to grasp what this was all about. "If this is about your parents..." he started, but Stark interrupted him. "Aah, the Captain's obviously got more to offer than a six-pack and a pretty face." He poured himself a whiskey and raised the glass to his lips, his eyes fixed on Steve. Then he said, "I'm all ears."<br/>
"Hydra had manipulated him," Steve said immediately. "He wasn't himself."<br/>
Stark nodded, took another sip and Steve continued. "It was nothing personal and he'll regret it for the rest of his life."<br/>
Stark took another sip, then he lowered his glass. "And what exactly does that change?" he asked coldly. Steve struggled for words. He knew that it didn't change anything and that it couldn't be undone. "Nothing, but..." Steve started again, but Stark had leant forward and was now very close to Steve's face. "Can his regret bring my parents back?" he asked in a low, threatening voice, "Can he give me back my mother? <br/>
Steve shook his head. Stark nodded determinedly and then moved away from Steve swivelling the whiskey inside the glass. He circled the table and sank down in the office chair at the other end. The large desk now separated them. Steve and Bucky tied up on one side, Stark on the other.</p><p>A weak moaning to Steve's right made him turn his gaze away from Stark. Bucky's head rose slowly and he began to open his eyes blinking. "Bucky..." Steve said, lowering his voice as he bent over to him as far as his situation allowed. But he knew that Stark could still hear him. "Bucky, I'm sorry" he said. He had to get it out before things got ugly around here. Stark was dangerous. A madman, full of hate, without conscience and probably drunk as well. Steve had no idea where this would end, but he had to know that Bucky knew he was sorry. <br/>
"It's not your fault" Bucky muttered as the anaesthetic slowly wore off. "You warned me" He had. But it had already been too late at that point. Steve should never have come here, especially not in the dark and without backup. But the message that Bucky was in trouble had blown all his fuses. He had left immediately and would most likely do it a second time. His only mistake had been to let himself be blindsided. Steve saw that Bucky was also trying in vain to untie himself. "I'm sorry" Steve said one more time and now Bucky looked up and his eyes met Steve's.<br/>
"That's absolutely adorable" Stark mocked from the other side of the table. "But now we can finally get to the main attraction of the evening."</p><p>Something made a loud thumping noise when Stark put it on the table and Steve turned his head back to see what it was. "Stark R91 Mark III, 44 calibre, self-cocking and brand new on the market. I believe SHIELD ordered two crates of it just yesterday." Stark said, looking at the revolver on the desk as if it was a particularly well done roast. "You two know about guns. Do you know what's so special about revolvers?" he asked, looking alternately from Steve to Bucky. Neither of them answered. His gaze remained fixed on Steve. "You were a lot more talkative when your boyfriend wasn't around yet. Maybe this will loosen your tongue." He pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and a second later Steve heard Bucky gasping next to him. He saw the straps that tied him to the chair glow up slightly and heard the soft crackling of electricity as Bucky's whole body seemed to contract. <br/>
"All right!" Steve shouted as Bucky writhed under the electric shocks. "I'll answer. Cut that bullshit!" <br/>
The crackling stopped and the glowing went out. Bucky sank back down again and Steve could hear him breathing heavily. Stark looked at him expectantly. <br/>
"The cylinder" Steve said, but did not take his eyes off Bucky, whose chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. "Revolvers have a cylinder where each chamber has to be loaded separately." Stark nodded. "It's a bit old-fashioned and tedious, but nothing beats the impact of a revolver, they say." He reached for the gun on the desk and flipped the cylinder open. "Oh, dear." He said with an artificially surprised undertone that didn't fool anyone. He shook the revolver and a single bullet fell clattering on the desk. "Looks like I'm a little short on ammunition at the moment. Rogers, help me out, when I load the cylinder with just one bullet, how do I know I've loaded the right chamber?"<br/>
"You don't" Steve replied with a knot in his chest.<br/>
"How inconvenient" Stark said, put the bullet back into the cylinder, spun it and let it snap back into the gun. Then he slid the revolver across the table towards Bucky. "Ever heard of Russian roulette?" </p><p>Steve's worst premonitions seemed confirmed. He had suspected it the moment only one bullet had fallen from the cylinder. Again, he became painfully aware that it was him who had put them both in this situation. He had been inattentive, had put his concern for Bucky over his own safety. And it was only because of him that Bucky was sitting here. Because he, too, would always drop everything to come and help his boyfriend. Stark had turned their greatest strength into their greatest weakness.</p><p>"Just so we're on the same page," Stark said, stood up and came around the table again. "I'm going to untie one arm for each of you. Rogers, you may even pick one. Barnes may not, metal conducts electricity into the body so much better than meat. But if one of you tries to fuck up..." he bobbed his mobile phone in his hand and grinned slyly. The message was clear. </p><p>Stark untied Bucky's arm first. As soon as the strap fell to the floor, Bucky's hand had already closed tightly around Stark's throat. Immediately electricity flickered through Steve's body and the pain made him curl up and squirm in his chair. For what felt like an eternity, his whole world seemed to consist of pain. And then it stopped and he was hanging in the chair, breathing as wearily and heavily as Bucky had done just before. He felt Bucky's shocked look on him, while he picked himself up again rather poorly. "Stupid idea, Barnes" Stark commented as he approached Steve to free one of his arms as well.<br/>
Steve decided to take the right one. It was the arm that was on Bucky's side, even though he believed the distance between them was barely too much to touch. He didn't dare try it because Stark's finger was still hovering menacingly above the display of the mobile phone, which could trigger another electric shock. Steve had understood how it worked. Stark continued to play them off against each other. If Steve did something reckless, Bucky would pay for it and vice versa. Steve would willingly endure all the pain in the world at any time to protect Bucky, but he was powerless if anyone started torturing his boyfriend. Stark knew that. And he used it to his advantage.</p><p>Steve's gaze wandered to the loaded revolver that lay on the table in front of Bucky. The chance of a shot being released when the trigger was pulled was one out of six. And that was clearly too much for Steve's taste when it was aimed directly at his partner. Steve's brain was working feverishly on a way to get them both out of here. Having one arm free now was something after all. He just had to use this opportunity well.<br/>
Stark refilled his whiskey glass once more and let himself sink back into his chair, the mobile phone with the switch for the electricity demonstratively in his other hand. "Please" he said and nodded his head invitingly towards the gun.</p><p>Bucky moved so fast that Steve neither saw it properly nor had any chance to react. He reached for the revolver, aimed at Stark and pulled the trigger. It clicked. Two times, three times, four, five, six. Then electricity shot out of the cuffs in Steve's left arm again and spread painfully throughout his body. He felt all his muscles tense up in an attempt to withstand the pain. When it stopped, Steve's heart raced from the effort of not screaming.</p><p>"Oh yes, I completely forgot" Stark said almost casually. "I upgraded this particular model a bit. For private use, of course. The cylinder cannot rotate in the gun. I don't want anyone to try all six chambers in one go, that would be unfair to the other players". He looked at Bucky harshly. "Thanks for the demonstration, Barnes. As you can see, it works just fine." Bucky dropped the gun on the table in disgust and looked apologetically at Steve, who again tried to return to an upright position. Steve did not blame him. The idea had been very good. Unfortunately, Stark had once again beaten them to it. It seemed as if he had planned it all for a long time. Stark reached over the table for the revolver, opened it, spun the cylinder and closed it again. Then he put it down again in front of Bucky. " Now, let's do it again properly, please."</p><p>Bucky shook his head. " Forget it. I'm not playing your insane games."<br/>
Stark sighed, took another sip of whiskey and said serenely, "This one's on you."<br/>
When the electricity kicked in again, Steve was absolutely sure that this time it was more than the times before. He could no longer hold back a scream of pain as the electricity rushed through his veins. He heard Bucky say something, but couldn't understand his words. Yet the pain ebbed away.<br/>
Horrified, Steve watched as Bucky picked up the gun again. He had just got one of the five unloaded chambers. Was he lucky enough to hit it a second time? <br/>
Bucky lifted the gun and placed the barrel against his temple. Steve's heart raced. He couldn't bear to watch him do it, but he couldn't look away either. He sat there paralyzed. Bucky turned his head to him and looked into his eyes. It was his glance, the fear in his eyes, that ultimately broke Steve. Bucky had never looked at him like that before, and they had already been through a hell of a lot of scary stuff together. All Steve wanted was to get him out of here in one piece, no matter what it took. And if it meant his own death, then so be it. But right now, it was Bucky with a loaded gun to his head. Steve forced himself to maintain his gaze, for he knew what Bucky wanted. If a shot fell now, he wanted Steve's eyes to be the last thing he saw. </p><p>The click echoed loudly in the room and Steve exhaled shakily. Bucky closed his eyes and the gun fell from his hand back onto the table. Steve wanted to walk over to him, hug him, kiss him, tell him everything was going to be okay. He decided to take the risk and reached out for Bucky. His fingertips did not reach to his chair as he had expected. But Bucky reached over to the left with his free right hand and managed to cover the few inches that were missing. Steve felt his trembling fingers in his own hand and squeezed them firmly. He wanted to reassure Bucky, but now his own fingers had begun to tremble. </p><p>"Mr Rogers, you have the honour" Stark said, who seemed completely unimpressed. Steve looked at him sitting completely relaxed on the other side of the table, sipping his whiskey. Sheer hatred had manifested itself in Steve by now. Hatred for this man who had made his wealth from weapons, whose ego was so big that he trampled everything else down and who obviously wanted to see the world burn. He had played Steve and Bucky off against each other like a diabolical chess player and he enjoyed it. Maybe Steve could play his ego off against him. For all he knew, Stark loved to hear himself talk. If Steve could just get him talking again, then maybe something would slip out, a loophole or something else that would help Steve and, especially, Bucky to free themselves.<br/>
"Stark, what's this all about?" he asked sharply, and turned to him, but without letting go of Bucky's hand.<br/>
"Can't you play some Russian Roulette with a few friends on a Friday evening?" asked Stark playing annoyed and rolled his eyes excessively.<br/>
"We're not your friends" Steve repeated what he had said earlier.<br/>
"No" Stark hissed, emptied his glass in one go and slammed it on the table "You, Rogers, have always been a pain in my ass. All my life I've had to listen to my father telling me how great Captain America is, and that Steve Rogers is such a wonderful guy". Stark had got up and was now leaning over the table in their direction as his voice got louder. "He spent my entire childhood looking for you because you were the better son to him even when you were dead. I have always hated you, with every fibre of my being." Steve saw the veins on his neck pop out as he talked himself into a rage. "And then I learn that the oh-so-great Steve Rogers, hooked up with James Barnes, the fist of Hydra, the <em>Winter Soldier</em>." He put as much contempt into those last two words as he could. "Captain America is banging the man who killed my mother. And the whole country watches and celebrates." Steve swallowed. He knew about Stark's past and what role Bucky had played in it, he had read about it in the files, but hearing it from Stark's mouth was different. "You're not a gay icon, Rogers, you're pathetic. You're clinging to the only thing left of your time, and you don't give a damn what he did, what lives he destroyed." Steve felt Bucky's hand twitching in his, as if he wanted to pull it away, but Steve just grabbed it tighter. He would not let Stark drive a wedge between them. Stark now turned directly to Bucky: "You murdered my mother. And I don't fucking care if they brainwashed you or if you're sorry for all eternity. Because you're gonna pay for it and now pick up the damn gun, Rogers!" He almost screamed the last sentence while his finger was already moving back to his smartphone.<br/>
Steve let go of Bucky's hand and took the revolver in front of him before Stark could give Bucky another electric shock. Stark was still standing, a clenched fist braced against the table, breathing heavily. Steve turned to his boyfriend, wanted to look into his eyes, but Bucky had lowered his head and stared at his knees. "Bucky..." Steve whispered. He felt his boyfriend slipping away as the thoughts in him began to spin and he hated Stark all the more for the words he had hurled at him.<br/>
"Too slow!" Stark shouted and Bucky was shaken by another electric shock right in front of Steve' eyes.<br/>
Steve pulled the trigger without thinking. He just wanted Stark to stop torturing Bucky. </p><p>The revolver clicked. No shot had been fired. Steve hurled the gun back onto the table with so much force that it almost fell off on the other side. But he could not have cared less. As far as he could, he leaned in Bucky's direction and tried to touch him with his fingertips. "Buck, look at me, come on" he whispered. "Please, Buck" Bucky raised his head and Steve saw the tears glistening in his eyes. It broke his heart and there was nothing he could do about it. "He's right, isn't he?" Bucky whispered back in a husky voice. "I murdered innocent people. I should pay for it."<br/>
"But not like this" Steve said desperately and felt a lump forming in his throat. Bucky hardly ever cried, he had always been the stronger one of them, could cope with everything, could handle everything. But when it did happen, when something broke him, Steve couldn't prevent himself from tearing up too. <br/>
Bucky turned away from him and stared at his knees again. But Steve saw his hands tremble. </p><p>The sound of Stark spinning the revolver's cylinder and making it click back into position reached Steve's ears. <br/>
"You play along too," he said out of the blue and reluctantly turned his eyes away from Bucky to look at Stark in a challenging way.<br/>
"Of course I'm playing along," he replied, dropped back into his chair and nonchalantly aimed the revolver at his own head. "It would be half the fun otherwise." Steve held his breath when he saw Stark pull the trigger. But again, it just clicked. Stark grinned winningly. "I'm a weapons manufacturer. It's not the first time I'm playing." He spun the cylinder again. "And I have never lost so far"</p><p>When Bucky took the gun again, his hand stopped trembling. Something that scared Steve more than anything he had seen today. It was the steady, controlled hand of a well-trained sniper that stabilized a weapon to take a lethal shot. Only this time the shot would go to his own head. <br/>
They had already completed three, actually four, rounds and not a single shot had been fired. Since Stark spun the cylinder anew each time, each of them had a one-in-six chance of catching the bullet. But Steve had to wonder how much longer they would be lucky. Statistically spoken, the shot would fall in the next round or the one after that. And that meant it would either hit Bucky or himself. Steve knew what he would prefer if he had the choice. <br/>
He thought hard. They were in round five. If Bucky pointed the gun at Stark again now, maybe a bullet would hit him. If not, Steve would be getting electrified. He desperately tried to catch Bucky's eye, to somehow signal to him wordlessly, that it was okay, that he could take it. But he knew Bucky too well, and he knew it was pointless, because he wouldn't do anything that would put Steve in danger. Even if it cost him his own life. And he pulled the trigger. </p><p>The click that sounded as the hammer dashed forward and hit an empty chamber was so loud in Steve's ears that he flinched. The revolver fell back onto the table and now Bucky looked at him. He had also done the math. They were in round six. The cylinder had six chambers. Stark spun the cylinder again and gave the gun back to Steve with a dirty grin. Of course it hadn't escaped his attention either.<br/>
Steve tried to evaluate his options. There was still a chance that the chamber was empty. But it became less likely with every round. If he pointed the gun at Stark and the barrel contained a bullet, it would be over. But if Steve missed the bullet again, Bucky would pay for that attempt. And Bucky was already at the end of his rope. Stark's words had hit him badly. Steve knew that his past was a delicate point, but they had been on the right track. Since Bucky was working with him for SHIELD, he had got better every day. But Stark had torn open all the old wounds with a few pinpointed words. </p><p>If Steve pointed the gun at himself following the rules, he could definitely spare Bucky the electric shock. But maybe that would take his own life. He didn't know if the game would be over then, or if he would leave Bucky all alone in the hands of Stark. But if he survived this round, Stark would be in a tight spot in the next one. But Steve also saw where his chances lay. Round six of six. If no shot broke loose now, he was outrageously lucky. For a second he wondered whether he should aim at Stark after all. But he didn't have to look at Bucky to know that he wouldn't have the heart to do it if the barrel didn't contain a bullet. Besides, he would then have to repeat the round with even worse chances. <br/>
Steve raised the gun to his own head. He did not close his eyes, but looked at Bucky and forced himself to think only of Bucky. He thought about their last holiday together, the last birthday they had celebrated together, all the beautiful little moments they had spent together and the feeling of Bucky's lips on his. And he pulled the trigger. </p><p>No shot. The gun fell from Steve's hand and landed loudly on the table. He could no longer bear the constant alternation between tension and relief. Bucky was breathing flat and looked at him, his eyes widened. Stark reached over the table and made the cylinder rotate again. "That was beautiful," he said. "That finality in your face Rogers, very beautiful to watch."<br/>
Steve took another close look at Bucky, but again he stared impassively at his knees. Steve knew he was trapped in his head again. Steve's looming death had only been a brief distraction, and not powerful enough to repress the images and memories that were happening in front of his inner eye. Stark's words had hurled him back to a time when he had been just an assassin for Hydra, without a free will. Steve knew that a hug and a few kind words were usually enough to bring him back to the present, but he could not touch Bucky or reach him in any other way. <br/>
"Buck" he said, but he got no reaction. <br/>
"I seem to have hit a sore spot," Stark mocked. "Good, now you know how that feels.”</p><p>"Why?" Steve asked and tried to sound confident, but he heard his voice trembling. "What do you get out of this?" <br/>
"You mean apart from the fact that I really enjoy seeing you both suffer?" Stark said. "Let's just say I have nothing left to lose" He pulled the open collar of his shirt down and Steve saw dark blue streaks in odd angles across his skin. They seemed to come from the mysterious reactor in his chest and looked anything but healthy. "I am already a dead man. And if I outlive even one of you, it will be a victory for me."<br/>
"The thing that keeps you alive is killing you," Steve said flatly. He didn't know what he had been expecting. But this wasn't it.<br/>
"Ironic, isn't it? It runs on palladium 109, a highly radioactive isotope, and there's no non-toxic substitute for that."<br/>
"All this for a little bit of vengeance in your final moments," Steve said, shaking his head in disbelief.<br/>
"And for the fun" Stark toasted to him, the whiskey glass in one hand, the revolver in the other. </p><p>When the shot fired, Steve felt like his eardrum was ripped apart. It was so much louder than the click he had expected that it echoed loudly in his head. Steve's ears were ringing, but he could hear the revolver falling to the floor. Stark's head slammed hard on the table as he collapsed. Blood oozed from the hole in his temple and with empty eyes he stared straight ahead without seeing. Horror mixed with relief as Steve realised what had just happened. Stark lay dead in front of them, killed by the shot from his own gun that he himself had fired. He had lost. </p><p>"Bucky" Steve called. Bucky hadn't even flinched, but was still staring at his knees. He must be very, very far away and it was about time for Steve to pull him out again. But he was still tied with both legs and one arm to a chair that was fixed to the floor. With his free hand he tried to pull on the cuff around his other wrist, but it was so tightly wrapped around his arm that he could barely get his fingers underneath it to get a proper grip. His fingernails scratched across the sturdy fabric and he felt the wires inside, which could charge up on command. He caught hold of something that was on the underside and with nimble fingers he palpated it more carefully. A small panel was woven into the fabric and fixed it to the metal of the chair. But no matter how hard Steve tried to release the plate, it didn't move a fraction of an inch. <br/>
Once again he glanced worriedly over at Bucky and the desire to take him in his arms became so strong that he could hardly think straight. He had to free himself and get to him and he had to do it quickly. <br/>
Frantically, Steve looked around. His shield was still leaning against the wall a few metres away, the things Stark had taken from him and Bucky, gloves, knives, torches and phones lay piled up next to it, far too far away for Steve to reach. </p><p>The phone! <br/>
Steve's head snapped back to Stark and with his eyes he searched the desk. There, only a few inches away from Stark's head, his mobile phone lay in the middle of the puddle of blood that slowly spread across the table. As far as he could, Steve slipped forward on the chair and stretched out his free hand. His fingertips touched the red blood, which was still warm, and a shiver ran down his back. He stretched as far as possible until the cuff on his left arm cut deep into his flesh, but he managed to push the phone in his direction bit by bit until he could finally grasp it. It was smeared with blood but the screen was not locked. Either Stark had deliberately left this exit open for them, or he had been so confident of his victory that he hadn't thought it necessary. Steve suspected the latter. <br/>
Several buttons and digital sliders appeared on the screen. Without hesitation he pressed what was labeled "Cuffs 1". Nothing happened. But he heard Bucky's cuffs fall to the ground. Steve pressed a second button and felt his arm being released and the cuffs falling from his ankles as well. </p><p>He threw the phone to the ground and jumped up. In a flash, he was at Bucky's side. "Hey, Bucky..." he said softly and enclosed his face with his hands to get him to look at him. Bucky's eyes stared right through him.<br/>
"Bucky..." Steve said a second time and felt the tears rise in his eyes again. He threw Bucky's metal arm over his shoulder and lifted his boyfriend out of his chair and into his arms without much ado. He wasn't sure if Bucky's legs would carry him, so Steve dropped to his knees and bedded Bucky's upper body on his legs. " It' s all right, Buck." he whispered. "Come back to me" He was slowly rocking back and forth while he had both arms around him protectively, holding him tightly to give him some support. "I love you, Bucky" He pressed a kiss on his head and felt his own tears fall into Bucky's hair. <br/>
Bucky's arms wrapped around Steve's middle and he heard a choked sobbing against his stomach. Bucky was trembling, but he was with him again. Soothingly, Steve stroked Bucky's back with his hand while his body was shaken by silent sobbing. Then Steve looked up to the table from which blood was now dripping sluggishly. He would have to report what had happened to SHIELD. He was sure Fury would think of something to cover it all up. Tony Stark, who subdued two of SHIELD's best agents and played Russian Roulette with them, was not something you wanted in the headlines.<br/>
 "It's over," Steve said quietly to Bucky "Let's go home" Bucky nodded weakly but made no attempt to get up. Steve wouldn't force him to, and if they sat here all night.</p>
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